MUSIC
SUNDAY NIGHT
ISLE OF WIGHT FESTIVAL
F ANY act were to top Blur’s glorious Saturday night set, it would surely be folk-rock behemoths Fleetwood Mac. And so it proved, as the sun went down on what’s been the best Isle of Wight Festival in years, overflowing with nostalgia thanks to its affectionate nod to the 45th anniversary of Jimi Hendrix’s famous performance here.
Weary bodies, battered by rain on the Friday night, hauled themselves to the Main Stage to witness the American-English quintet, who seemed to have shrugged off the illness that forced them to cancel their Birmingham and Manchester gigs earlier in the week.
It was marvellous to behold. Making their first appearance at Isle of Wight, this volatile soap opera of a group were restored to their full configuration, with singer-pianist Christine McVie returning after a 16-year hiatus. That they were here to close proceedings represented a major coup for the festival – especially when you consider Michael Eavis has been trying to sign them up for Glastonbury for ages.
The Mac, now in their 48th year and in the middle of a 130-leg reunion tour, opened with the familiar riff of The Chain, which saw thunderous drums, coruscating guitar lines and sweeping melodies collide to devastating effect.
From there the hits kept coming. Vocalists Stevie Nicks, Lindsey Buckingham and McVie, each dressed in black, shared the limelight willingly, with the former’s voice, admittedly less honey-toned than it once was, anchoring the beautiful Dreams, from their 1977 album Rumours. “Welcome back Mrs Christine McVie,” said Nicks in one of many heartening shows of camaraderie. Everywhere, their gorgeous, twinkling ode to allencompassing love, followed, with McVie taking centre stage and providing a high point of the festival.
Later, Buckingham stressed the importance of change, before a virtuosic rendition of 1987’s Big Love. How pleasing that the brilliance of Fleetwood Mac’s music hasn’t changed.
Earlier, in a packed-out Big Top tent, The Lightning Seeds were by turns wistful and energetic. Spearheaded by Ian Broudie, the Liverpudlians began their 50-minute set with Sense. But it wasn’t until a polished rendition of The Life of Riley, a song synonymous with Match of the Day’s Goal of the Month segment in the Nineties, that the audience began to embrace them fully.
Because of the success of Three Lions, the football anthem, it’s easy to forget that, in their pomp, they were pretty inventive purveyors of catchy, fey pop songs such as their 1990 track Pure, which closed the set. Calls for Three Lions were kept to a minimum – a good thing, given it didn’t make the cut.
“It’s an absolute pleasure to be here,” said Broudie before breaking into the jaunty Lucky You, one of their highlights. The band are due to release an album this year, their first since Four Winds in 2009. I have high hopes for it.
On the Main Stage afterwards, Paolo Nutini serenaded a swelling crowd with his brand of Motown-inflected soft rock. Wearing a red-and-black check shirt unbuttoned to his chest, the doeeye Scot showcased his lovely voice: raspy and full of emotion. At times he sounded like Kings of Leon’s Caleb Followill; at others, the late Joe Cocker.
Though he can be gratingly earnest and bland, tracks such as Pencil Full of Lead (from his 2006 LP These Streets) were warmly received. Finishing with a soothing, acoustic version of 2006’s Last Request, Nutini urged the crowd to “enjoy the legends” that are Fleetwood Mac. It was impossible not to.
Top that, Glastonbury.
TRATING